


Case #1

by Archistratego, Cosmik debris (Moggio)



Series: Exorcist case files [1]
Category: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Demons, Exorcisms, Ghosts, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Supernatural Elements, catacombs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 10:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16973142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archistratego/pseuds/Archistratego, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moggio/pseuds/Cosmik%20debris
Summary: “Wait, you’re going alone?” Eli felt uncomfortable. Was he not letting his mentor down by staying behind? Even if Thrawn was ordering it, the notion did not sit well with him.A small gentle smile spread across his face and Eli felt the strain between them break. “Don’t worry.”As if it was that easy.





	Case #1

“I don’t understand.” Eli asked, blunt in a way that would be considered rude. He’s standing in the private study of the Church’s leading exorcist trying not to flinch even as he felt pierced by Father Thrawn’s infamous stare. It had reduced greater men than Eli to tears, and rendered many more into stunned silences. Rumour has it that incredibly awkward pauses had occurred in sequestered meetings with other bishops due to Thrawn’s candour.

“Was I not clear?” Thrawn tilted his head, dark long hair obscuring his face briefly, “I want you to enlist at Athenaeum Pontificium Regina Apostolorum.” Each word was carefully enunciated and Eli felt embarrassed for his own deficient Latin skills. He could never pronounce anything _that_ elegantly.

“That’s the exorcist training school.” Eli floundered, feeling Thrawn’s raised eyebrow speak volumes; he was glad his complexion hid how quickly his face heated. He had no desire to argue with Thrawn — in fact, he was certain that an argument with someone as renowned as him would lead to being reprimanded or worse, a stagnation of his chosen career path. Which had nothing to do with exorcism, demons, and ghosts.

Those are stories told around campfires, though his _abuelita_ had always taken them very seriously. Candles lit to guide the spirits of the dead, and other small acts intended to keep the peace. Eli had learnt from her those habits, and he kept them out of respect for her.

While the exorcist school is renowned and elite, it was a far step in the opposite direction of the quiet career path Eli is hoping for. His grades were very good but nowhere near as impressive as they were required, his Latin was woefully lacking, not to mention the theory aspects would be completely new and set him back months, if not years.

“I’m training to be an acolyte in my parish back home.” Eli said, attempting to be diplomatic.

The statement was met with further silence from Thrawn who had conveniently decided to bulldoze over all of Eli’s carefully planned career with this meeting. Eli was pretty certain that even if he managed to leave this room unscathed, there would be repercussions. Granted, Thrawn didn't have that type of reputation but Eli had known too many priests who abused their authority to trust anything being said.

Straightening, Thrawn pulled out a piece of paper smoothing the creases before offering it to Eli. “By order of his holiness the Pope —"

"—who authorises the immediate transfer of aspiring acolyte Eli Vanto to the Athenaeum Pontificium Regina Apostolorum. Any further training required will be at the sole discretion of Father Thrawn." Eli finished, fingers tightening around the paper before he remembered himself and stopped.

The Pope himself had ordered this, the only way to turn it down would be to leave the church entirely. There was a knot in Eli's throat as he understood perfectly well the situation he was in, and the stakes; Thrawn's gamble had not left anything to chance, he knew what Eli's answer would be.

Although for a moment, Eli wanted to be petty and refuse, slam the door, go home, and forget this. That urge was smothered quickly.

"I'll get my things packed." He hated how smug Thrawn looked as he inclined his head.

"Pack only the essential, you can get whatever you need once we arrive to Rome."

"Rome. Yeah." Eli tried to summon enthusiasm he did not quite feel, then froze surprised at Thrawn's gentle touch on his elbow as he stood up. It was a conciliatory gesture, one which Eli answered with a curt nod before leaving.

Thrawn knew Eli did not understand and he would not for a long time, but he had nothing but time.

 

And that was how Eli ended up knee-deep in muck within a labyrinthine catacomb network, smelling of rancid decay and dust that had settled in layers until it became greasy. It was not the way he envisioned his afternoon to go but his life, now that Thrawn had become a fixed point in it, was - for lack of a better word - unexpected.

"I can't believe you pulled me out of class to come here." Eli said sourly as he mourned the death of his trousers, glad to have foregone his expected formal attire for this. Of course, there had been no time to change with the way Thrawn swooped in in the middle of class with an assignment that needed Eli's support.

Eli is still not sure what he was meant to be doing, it's not like Father Thrawn needed his help; if all he had heard since his arrival at exorcism school was true, then the last thing Thrawn needed was an inexperienced nobody from nowhere holding him back.

"Would you rather be listening to Father Parrish mispronounce Latin for three hours?" Thrawn said softly.

"Well, no." Eli made a face, "How do you know he is mispronouncing it, it sounds fine to me."

Thrawn turned and gave Eli an amused look, "You've heard me recite before, have you not?"

"Yeah," Eli looked away so he could mind his footing, it was too dark, and the sludge was making it impossible to keep an even footing; Thrawn, however, looked as graceful as ever, the bastard. Considering the question, Eli had to admit that there was a difference when Thrawn recited, a certain smoothness to it that he hadn't heard anywhere else, "Okay, fine, yours is better but it's not like mine is anywhere as good as Father Parrish's."

"Maybe." Thrawn stopped at the end of the passage where it split in two corridors, each looked as appealing as the other, which is to say not at all. "Maybe not."

He used his flashlight to illuminate a series of carvings on the wall beneath a pentagram that had been sprayed over in red. "They shouldn't be doing this, some of these passages have been here since the middle ages."

"True, but the city does not have enough money to invest into parts of this infrastructure. That is also one of the reasons it is flooded." Thrawn studied the carvings with interest, "What do you see, Eli?"

This had also been part of his training, Thrawn asking him questions when they went on these trips but Eli wasn't sure what he was meant to be seeing. Was this the fifth or sixth time they went on odd assignments? He wondered, lost in thought. Generally Thrawn hummed and then continued with whatever he was doing giving no indication of whether his answers were correct or not. "Uh, well it's full of dust and damp, the pentagram drawn is recent but probably has no real bearing to the activity reported here.

"Assuming there really are ghosts here, Father, and not just teenagers stirring up trouble, and scaring others." Eli muttered, brushing off the dust flakes on his hair and clothes.

Again there was that noncommittal hum and Thrawn leaned forward to touch the stone, clearing some of the cobwebs and dust from the symbols. They were medieval carvings from a battle or a plague, Eli wasn't sure which one, the elements had done some serious damage but it looked like— "Wait, isn't that from the Key of Solomon? If you trace it from this figure to that and— " Eli's finger followed the lines of the pentagram's red painting, but it’s what lay beneath that was of importance. The lines and scripture were worn and easy to miss unless someone was looking closely. "— here, whoever drew that knew what they were doing."

"You are correct." Thrawn looked pleased, "The graffiti is intended to be taken as a meaningless frivolity."

Eli can't help the excitement and rush of warmth, maybe he was learning something worthwhile being here. "Still, that doesn't mean there is anything here but mold, rats and trash." Even if there is something unsettling about the darkness here Eli blamed it on the rank air and the oppressing sensation of walking inside underground passages.

"You are not a believer of the supernatural." Thrawn was undisturbed by this as he shined the light to the left and then to the right. "But you must be open to the possibility of it or you'll be susceptible to its manipulation." There was no disappointment or judgement in those words, "Now, which way should we go?"

"Uh," As far as Eli was concerned, both sides look exactly the same and therefore this was nothing but a coin toss decision but Thrawn was looking at him, and Eli didn't feel like he could just pick at random without Thrawn knowing. "Well," He sighed and looked at the dirt roads, pointless roads, paved with debris, mud and some dead insects. The more he tried to recognize something, a pattern or a smell, the more difficult it was to decide. His back was turned, but he could feel Thrawn’s gaze following his pacing steps. Eli looked at the left corridor, feelt a prickle at the back of his neck and quickly averted his eyes. "Right, we could go... right."

"After you." Thrawn gestured.

 

"It's been hours, and we haven't seen anything." Eli was certain he would need about five showers to wash off the rancid smell of trash and dust. The winding passages seemed endless, small alcoves littered with garbage, defaced broken statues surrounded by graffiti. “Gotta say, I’m surprised we haven’t seen any teenagers, it looks like a popular spot.“

They had seen more crushed cans of beer and empty liquor bottles than anything else. Certainly, the heavy metal gates they had been unlocking on their way here seemed to do nothing to deter intruders.

Thrawn didn’t answer, but that was not surprising; he had years of experience and Eli mused in the privacy of his mind that maybe in this case Thrawn was wrong. The reports had not been conclusive, eyewitnesses accounts were notoriously unreliable and that had been the basis of this investigation. He thought on their previous assignments, mostly uneventful aside from a couple of heated interviews with eyewitnesses. Sometimes on their way back Thrawn stopped, as if listening to someone. He was often strange like that, Eli thought, seemingly conversing with someone other than him.

With each step they took the corridor narrowed further, only to suddenly open into an alcove filled with an oppressive darkness that was impenetrable with their flashlights. Eli felt something cold stroke his neck and suppressed the shiver clawing up his back. He turned to face Thrawn who was raising his arm, trying in vain to shine some light on their surroundings. The flashlight flickered and Eli walked closer to it.

“What do we know of this case?”

“Nothing, just some rumours.” Eli rolled his shoulders trying to ease the tension, and sighed because Thrawn was giving him an expectant look.

“You read the dossier on our way here.” Thrawn said, looking cool and collected as if this was nothing more than a routine exercise. To him, it probably was, not to mention a bit beneath but Eli wasn’t going to point that out. He might have had his reasons for accepting this assignment.

“Okay, we know these have had a long history of being haunted but no proof.” Eli bit his lip, “There have been a series of murders down here recently, which is why the police has increased security.” He gestured towards a wire mesh behind them that has been torn, “Or tried to.”

“Correct,” Thrawn’s mouth curled with a pleased smile. “We are here trying to determine if there is something more to the rumours given the increased number of attacks reported.”

“But how can you be so sure there is something to be found?” Eli shook off the feeling of being watched, putting it at the back of his mind in order to concentrate. The slight breeze brushing his face was easy to ignore once he focused on recalling the information on the dossier he’d looked at on his way here.

“How did you _feel_ when you entered this passage?”

 _Annoyed_ , Eli’s mind helpfully supplied. “I didn’t feel anything unusual.”

“Then perhaps, there is nothing here after all.” Thrawn turned away and took a step towards the corridor when Eli felt it. Everything went dead silent. As if the catacombs, for a moment, were submerged in water.

Then it swept in, covering his body like a dark and heavy veil, unexpectedly cold and terrifying with the way nails sank against the back of his neck. He jolted at the sensation, unable to breathe when suddenly something pulled him back and he flailed trying to avoid falling despite the insistent yank on the back of his clothes.

“Eli!”

He shrieked, high pitched and terrified as his back hit something solid that prevented his fall, followed by a sharp pain that tore through skin. Black spots clouded his vision as he vividly felt the ridges and imperfections of the metal puncturing his back. Terror shot through Eli’s mind like poison. Hysterically, he thought that he was going to need a tetanus shot by the time this was over because he certainly had _not_ fallen by accident, something had pulled him back against the dilapidated metal. As the seconds passed Eli’s throat let out fast puffs. He coughed the stale air, paralyzed as Thrawn kneeled in front of him.

He’s grateful that Thrawn was there, as it was his hand that steadied Eli, while the other reached over to check the damage. “It’s not deep,” And he sounded so certain that Eli believed him, no matter how much his shoulder stung — he’d never felt pain like this. “Hold onto me. It’ll be quicker than if you try to walk.” Because Eli’s life had become such a strange thing ever since Thrawn invaded it; Eli felt Thrawn pull his weight with ease, and he was glad the metal slided out with minimal effort.

Although, Eli was pretty sure he had been told not to do this if stabbed. The alternative was to stay down here until Thrawn returned with help, and such scenario was even worse — he could feel his skin tingle where that _thing_ grabbed. His neck, his back — Eli shivered, but did not flinch as Thrawn carefully checked his wound, unbuttoning his shirt and making a tourniquet with it. Thrawn’s movements were quick as he tightened the knot, putting Eli’s jacket on his shoulders and carried him on his back towards one of the many exits.

 

“Something grabbed me. Pulled— there was — I didn’t trip.” Terror shot through his mind as the warmth of his blood drenched the improvised bandage. He could already feel the bruises on his neck and a cool fainting sensation creeped from there, coating his skin like a thousand needles made of ice. He felt the stickiness of his blood, its coopery scent was pungent.

“Don’t look.” Thrawn whispered and again Eli felt as if everything was submerged underwater. He tilted his head instinctively, listening. Something was happening behind them, he thought, but Thrawn squeezed his leg and Eli remembered the instruction, closing his eyes.

Someone was breathing beside them.

The breeze returned, bringing another scent besides decay. He tried to recognize it, but the more he inhaled that smell the more something began to feel wrong all around him. The bruising on his neck stinged. Eli wheezed, wishing he could grasp his aching neck. He wanted to run away, and so he held onto the reassuring form under him, slowly clenching his hands in Thrawn’s clothes.

He kept his eyes shut until he felt the warmth of the late afternoon’s sun; terror had not released its grasp but, out here in the open, Eli knew that whatever was down there could not get to him. It lacked the strength and conviction of something evil.

And perhaps, Eli was even beginning to believe in the things he couldn’t understand or wished to disturb.

 

The nurse who received them takes one look at Thrawn and scowls, but it softened a moment as she spots Eli riding on Thrawn’s back like a ragged doll. “Why am I not surprised?” She ushered them in, gesturing towards an unused bed, “Doctor Pryce will see you in a minute.”

Lying on the bed Eli immediately felt faint and cold, missing the reassuring heat of being in close proximity to Thrawn — a realization that he filed away as being the byproduct of ‘delirium from blood loss’.

Eli hoped the doctor showed up before he decided to lean against Thrawn while waiting. Fortunately, a few moments later a dark haired woman entered the room.

Doctor Arihnda Pryce had the appearance of someone who knew how to command — she had an air of confidence that rivalled Thrawn’s, and by the way she narrowed her eyes, he was not someone welcome here. Or something. Eli’s brain was too tired to piece together the subtle clues, normally he did better.

“Thrawn.” Pryce’s voice held a note of palpable tension, “It has been a while.” She said as if it had not yet been long enough.

“Doctor Pryce,” Thrawn said, “This is my —” a pause, trying to find the right word. Eli was not Thrawn’s subordinate, not yet, “ — apprentice. Eli Vanto. He suffered a mishap during our latest excursion.”

She turned her blue eyes to Eli, “Lovely to meet you.” But the words did not settle well. Reaching over, Arinda picked up some gauze, and alcohol. “Let’s see what the problem is.”

“I got stabbed. The metal was… corroded.” Eli stayed still as she examined the wound, jabbing at it a few times in a way that Eli felt was distinctly un-doctor like.

“Yes, if you work with Thrawn long enough, I imagine this is the first of many more injuries.” Arihnda shot Thrawn a look.

The priest did not seem bothered in the slightest, “He will be fine, it is a stab, nothing more serious.”

Eli stared at Thrawn, insulted. He looked away and held his breath to keep from snapping at his superior, feeling the sting of the antiseptics as the doctor cleaned his wound unceremoniously.

"Have you been stabbed before?" Eli said unable to hold back, bristling, teeth gritted through the pain emanating from his shoulder; later, much later, he will regret his tone but all his energy was focused towards dealing with the ache. Besides, a small part of his mind supplied unhelpfully, this was Thrawn’s fault for dragging Eli into garbage-filled catacombs.

“As a matter of fact,” Thrawn said, “I have.”

“Ohh—!” Eli said, pitch rising as Pryce stapled the wound. Well, that almost made him feel bad. Almost. She noticed the marks on his neck, squinting, and then she murmured a prayer as if trying to ward something off.

“Ready the vaccine,” She said, placing the clean gauze over the patched wound as the nurse tipped a small syringe. “Better safe than sorry.” She motioned the nurse to get on with it.

“Thank you.” Eli murmured after the shot, suddenly feeling annoyed at the unspoken tension between everyone.

“If you need extra painkillers grab one of those every eight hours.” Pryce said pointing at a small box on a stand beside the bed. And as quickly as she arrived the doctor left, not before graciously excusing herself and shooting one last warning look at Thrawn. There was an oppressive silence left in her absence but Eli was not going to ask, instead he took deep breaths as the adrenaline from the day began seeping away.

"We have to go back," Thrawn said, ignoring as the leftover tension in the room skyrocketed once more, "and finish."

“So that thing can properly kill me?” Eli grumbled, feeling his neck prickle. He wanted to get up and walk away from the hospital wing, away from him.

Thrawn paused, looked him in the eye and then said, “I would never let that happen.”

Eli hesitated, startled once again by his bluntness, but his heart was beating fast and he knew Thrawn could see the distress in his face.

“Something was trying to do just that!” He blurted out. “That… that thing held onto my neck! It stings! I can still feel its fingers on my skin…”

“Let me see.”

For a moment Eli held his breath as Thrawn stepped closer, but remained still while he gently turned his head to the side, pressing his neck lightly with two fingertips.

“Okay,” Thrawn said softly. “Eli, you will stay behind.”

“What?”

“I will teach you the next time to confront creatures like this one,” he said, simply. “I have dealt with this beings before so it should not be difficult.”

“Wait, you’re going alone?” Eli felt uncomfortable. Was he not letting his mentor down by staying behind? Even if Thrawn was ordering it, the notion did not sit well with him.

A small gentle smile spread across his face and Eli felt the strain between them break. “Don’t worry.”

As if it was that easy.

 

The sun was just coming up. He was already awake, pacing in his room. Minutes passed while he slowly dressed up, listening to the soft whispers of daybreak’s praying outside. He could distinctly hear the verses clacking over each other, listened to them repeating, but the soothing voices did little to calm his own rising heartbeat. Eli massaged his forehead and sat down, watching thin tendrils of light peek through the window and warm his feet. His pulse felt heavy, murky with exhaustion as his wounds throbbed. He was still tired, his back and neck hurt, especially his head.

Without a warning Eli’s heart made a jump. Instinctively he walked towards the window overlooking the gardens and Thrawn was there, walking towards the Athenaeum’s entrance. He paused seemingly listening to someone. As Eli watched him stride off, he felt his fatigue turn into fear. Whatever lurked underground could hurt others, including Thrawn. Eli realized that his anger and desire to help was quickly overcoming the horror he felt for the creature.

He had to destroy that being first without hesitation, Eli thought, holding all of Thrawn’s lessons in his memory as he walked towards the gardens, through the front gate. His neck prickled in tandem with his pulse, urging him on.

Soon he arrived back to where his troubles started. All he could hear once he entered the catacombs were the gentle echoes of dripping water. It was easy to follow Thrawn’s tracks. Once close Eli took a long breath and stayed still. Then he caught it, Thrawn’s voice, melodic and even reciting the verses that Eli had learnt by heart.

Something was beneath them, beneath the dust and debris, the ground trembled slightly causing ripples in the murky water. Instinctively, Eli laid a hand on his rosary when the screaming started and ran towards Thrawn’s lamp light.

They were not Thrawn’s screams, Eli was fairly certain, and that made him pace himself rather than charge in blindly even though his heart was racing at a million miles per second.

When he reached the source of the commotion, his eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden influx of light that was originating, not from the lamp, but from the spectre caught in the recitations, and enchantments that had been traced with chalk on the walls. It — no, she — Eli saw the features of the ghost, was a cruel thing.

Eli had never seen a ghost like this before.

She was human in most ways but the translucence of her skin and the fierceness behind her eyes was closer to that of an animals’. Burning rage kept her moving, struggling against the bonds of faith. She would kill them both if she could, because they possessed everything she had wanted, the grace and terrible, beautiful gift of human lives. Eli was struck by that chain of thoughts and petrified by it.

It was consumed by rage and yet Eli felt pity for the creature.

She took advantage of his empathy, of Thrawn’s pause when he noticed Eli’s arrival, to turn towards the older priest, ramming her strength against him. Thrawn stumbled back, startled as the ghost turned against him again.

“Thrawn!” Eli reached out in blind panic, he had felt the ghost’s power before. The way she had tossed him as if he were made of flimsy paper, and if something were to happen to Thrawn — it would be Eli’s fault. For having hesitated, for having failed to uphold his sworn duty.

Eli screamed, waving his arms to call for her attention before he began his recitation. “Our help is in the name of the Lord. Who made heaven and earth.”

He knows the verses by heart.

He felt the words swell in his tongue, turning and twisting until they were not just simple words but emanations that carried power. Each word a chain that lashed out to bind the ghost down, Eli did not even stop to look at Thrawn, he cannot afford to lose concentration in this moment. “...your holy name may find it a help in body and in soul.”

Each verse became another chain woven by his faith, intangible to the living but binding for the dead; another lock that bounded the ghost. Eli clasped his hands in prayer and stayed, anchored by his faith as the chains glow white, causing the ghost to trash and scream in pain as their brightness increases.

Eli shuts his eyes when the glow becomes too much too bear but he doesn’t stop praying until both the light and screams are gone. His breath is uneven, both of his shoulders ache and it feels like the wound opened once more, the bandage is damp. He looks over at Thrawn.

The older priest was holding himself up by the wall, looking at Eli with an unreadable expression. Eli had never been good at words, but he knew how to apologise, “Sorry I was late.”

It might have been a trick of the darkness but Eli thought he saw Thrawn’s eyes soften at that.

 

Eli was exhausted. He ached all over, his legs, arms, his neck, and especially his head. Two painkillers and a set of clean bandages later, Eli finally allowed himself to think over what he had seen. One of the instructors at the college had stressed the importance of being able to distinguish between true evil and individuals who were simply plagued by illness — who would do better under the care of doctors rather than exorcists.

Faced with the manifestation of malevolence, Eli felt that it was pretty clear which was which; it was not difficult at all regardless of how unreal it still felt.

Thrawn, freshly showered and wearing a white shirt and black slacks, was typing away in front of a laptop on his office. Eli always expected Thrawn to be old fashioned and exclusively use pens and paper. He doesn’t look like an exorcist, typing away under the blue-white light of the screen as he finishes what he is doing and clicks send.

“Was that a report for his Holiness?” Eli asked.

“No, it was for Cardinal Vader,” Thrawn replied, shutting the laptop and turning to Eli, “He’ll be interested in the details of this particular encounter.” Eli wanted to know why that would be relevant but Thrawn offered no further information, apparently happy to keep the mystery.

“Okay.” Because Eli had no energy to ask more questions, and the silence that followed was comfortable.

Thrawn stood, padding silently to where Eli was sitting, “More importantly, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, Father.” Eli said, and it was only a half lie. His mind was still turning over the events in the tunnel; there was the phantom touch along his neck, the throbbing of his shoulder where the stab wound was, which despite being bandaged and disinfected, Eli felt might reopen unexpectedly. That was mostly paranoia. “Hoping out next assignment is a little more lowkey. No angry ghosts.”

Thrawn smiled. The gesture felt different, somehow. A proud gleam lit up his stern gaze and Eli froze, heart dropping with an inexplicably stutter, blood rushing, face warming.

“Perhaps. Get some rest.”


End file.
